Wynter and Lisa’s Courageous Story

By Lisa Cash

Up until February 27, 2014, Wynter and I enjoyed a normal life – filled with going to work, going to school, good health, and holidays with family. And on that day, everything changed forever.

Wynter had been sick for a few weeks with generic symptoms – a fever that would come and go, muscle aches, and trouble sleeping. We took her to the doctor twice but they didn't think it was anything to worry about. Just a few days later, it escalated to a distended stomach, an inability to walk, and her eyes were glazed over. After a few moments in the emergency room, she was Life Flighted to Maine Medical Center in Portland. Hooked up to every machine in the ICU, Wynter was diagnosed with Leukemia, something her doctor had missed twice. Less than 48 hours later, Wynter got up from her bed and collapsed on the floor. The cancer had spread all down her spinal column and blocked the blood flow to her legs. She was instantly left paralyzed. Wynter's course of treatment all throughout was rough. Every chemo cycle she got sepsis, and the hope that she would survive became less and less bright.

Her doctors sat us down and explained our options. Wynter couldn't survive the next phase of chemo. She would not survive another life threatening infection. We could either do just enough chemo to keep her cancer at bay for another year, which wouldn't be a cure, but would keep her with us for another year or we could try a bone marrow transplant. That would be the most intense procedure she had seen yet, but if she survived, it could be her only chance at a cure. The odds she would survive it were 50/50.

We put all of our eggs into one basket and took our chances with the transplant. We knew the chances of her surviving were low. So we went all in for one last bucket list adventure. We decided it was time to do Wynter's Make-A-Wish. She decided that she wanted to meet Katy Perry and we prepared to go to New Orleans to meet her in concert down there. It was a five day trip where she suddenly lit up and appeared to not be sick for a moment in time. We did everything she wanted to do, ate every food she wanted to eat, bought every souvenir, and took every picture. We thought that even if we could not have any more birthdays or holidays, at least her last adventure was a memory we could all have of good times and Make-A-Wish made every bit of that happen for us.

There is no better way to describe what life was like for the year leading up to this, other than to say it was terrible. We had countless hospital stays that varied from hours to weeks. We missed holidays with family. We couldn't make any plans, never knowing how her health would be. She was on dozens of medications, wouldn't eat, threw up constantly, and all of this seemed to lead to worse and worse health. Wynter's father could not handle the intensity of everything and I got divorced in the middle of everything. She had appointments in Bangor, Portland, and Boston that were all over the calendar. I didn't work for one year. Make-A-Wish was a really bright spot amongst the chaotic days. It gave us something we could plan for, and hope for, so we could step away from everything that was going so wrong.

Wynter admitted to Boston Children's in January, after her Wish trip in October. Her doctors let us have one more Christmas, where she was spoiled to no end. And then we waited. Wynter filled her room with pictures of her Wish trip. I think that was one of the things that helped keep her going through what was absolutely a fight for her life. She got sicker and sicker every day until she was on morphine everyday and wasn't responding to people around her.

And then one day, a miracle happened. Just out of the blue. She woke up and started singing. She got better and better every day until we finally got to go home. The transplant worked and her cancer was gone.

After all those days of uncertainty and darkness, life is so good now. Wynter is nearly 16. She is nine years in remission. She will remain in a wheelchair for the rest of her life, but cancer is in the rear view mirror now. Today, she enjoys going on adventures with our family, including her step brother who is also a Wish kid. We got all those Christmases and birthdays that we feared were gone forever. I am thankful everyday that we got our own personal miracle. I am thankful for everyone who helped along the way, and one of those bright spots was Make-A-Wish. Now, I just want to pay everything forward to another family who is currently walking through the uncertainty and chaos. I've done the Trailblaze Challenge twice, and unfortunately I cannot participate this year. I'm grateful to the friends I have made during this journey, including Michele and Eriko, who are dedicating their hike to Wynter and I. I'll be back next year, but in the meantime, I hope that others can hear our personal journey and show some support for Michele and Eriko this year!